Luciano: Peoria should come clean on waterworks deal

But Peoria City Hall doesn’t know that. Or won’t admit it. Or thinks Peorians are too dumb or uncaring to notice.

The city wants to waive a magic wand in tinkering with its ancient agreement with Illinois American Water. Presto change-o! — and an obnoxious, ugly tax will be transformed into a quiet, unassuming fee.

What’s the difference? Nothing. A fee still would take a bite out of residents’ billfolds — plus leave Peoria with the shame of a City Council that would rather take an end run instead of standing tall.

We don’t want no wienies. And in the end, verbal gymnastics fool nobody. Remember what Abraham Lincoln said: "How many legs does a dog have if you call the tail a leg? Four. Calling a tail a leg doesn’t make it a leg. And if that dog is the Peoria City Council, it’ll make a big, stinky mess all over the public’s living room.”

OK, maybe he didn’t say that last part. But you get the idea. And the council runs the risk of making a huge mess here.

From an 1889 agreement, the city has an option every five years to buy the waterworks. The accompanying ponderings and panderings are a nuisance — no way Peoria can dig through its penny jar and find enough to buy a utility — but at least the option gives the city leverage.

But in the new deal, the city would forego that option for 20 years. Illinois American, which now hands the city about $280,000 a year in work-permit fees, would boost the annual sum to $1.45 million. Illinois American also would fork over a 3 percent franchise fee of about $1 million annually.

The city then would spend a great big gob of that dough — no specifics yet, though — on infrastructure, including streets and sidewalks. Certainly, Peoria needs such repair work, especially after a brutal winter that has turned the town into Pot Hole City.

But remember that we’re not talking about just any old company here. Illinois American Water is a utility. That means it makes money from anyone who wants to use its services — in this case, water. And there’s not a lot of competition around. You want to turn on the tap, you pay Illinois American.

Meantime, it’s not as if Illinois American’s investors would totally take the hit for all that new money pouring into the city. The franchise fee would be passed on to customers directly: it’d be noted on bills each month, like a twist of the knife as a monthly reminder.

Mind you, for a typical residential customer, the fee wouldn’t be extreme: about $1.33 per month, or $16 annually. So what’s to gripe about?

How about taxation without representation? Maybe Peoria isn’t exactly like the English colonies, which got no say as taxes were piled upon them. Then again, what good is representation — as in the City Council — if the elected members aren’t voting in forthright manner?

Call it what you want, but a tax is a tax is a tax. The council should put it out there, take the case to the public and vote its conscience. Simple. And non-tyrannical, to boot.

Maybe a tax is necessary — on property or gasoline — to fix Peoria’s streets and sidewalks. Maybe $16 a year — however it’s collected — won’t break too many backs. But City Council, which is to vote on the proposal March 25 after two public forums, won’t win anyone over by trying to bamboozle anybody. It’s been more than a decade since the council passed the odious garbage fee, and Peorians still scream about it — to a huge degree, because it’s a hidden tax.

You know the old saying: Nothing is certain in life but death and taxes. But in Peoria, you’re also certain to get fees — and a lot of baloney.

PHIL LUCIANO is a Journal Star columnist. He can be reached at pluciano@pjstar.com, facebook.com/philluciano, 686-3155 or (800) 225- 5757, Ext. 3155. Follow him on Twitter @LucianoPhil.